‘If my father were here, what do you think he would advise?’ asked Elizabeth, holding the king’s gaze.
‘To annul my marriage to Anne, then send her to a convent and to exile George abroad.’
‘He would,’ she agreed. ‘What did Younger advise?’
‘He told me what he thought I wanted to hear,’ said Henry dismissively. ‘He suggested we allow the furore to die down before I marry your cousin, Jane Seymour.’
Elizabeth’s hopes faded with these words.
‘Have you chosen her because of her connection to me?’ she asked, hoping he would admonish her, accuse her of arrogance and vanity, but the smile on his face told her the worst.
‘Who shall I turn to after her?’ he said. ‘How old are your brother Edmund’s girls? A bit young, but perhaps in a few years, one might be suitable. The eldest is Catherine, isn’t it? Perhaps she will follow you, her aunt, in looks, Lizzie. A Howard queen by my side at last.’
‘Henry, please, no,’ said Elizabeth in anguish. ‘What do you want from me? What would you have me do to right the wrong I caused between us all those years ago?’
‘I would have your heart, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘Your love, I would make you queen.’
‘You would execute my daughter and put me in her place?’ she said, disgusted by his words.
‘Whenever I looked at her, I saw you,’ he said, leaning over and running a finger down her cheek. Elizabeth schooled herself not to flinch. ‘My daughter is named for you, not for my mother. For you, my true love.’
‘Can you not see what you desire is impossible?’ she said, her voice low, the emotion pulsing through it, desperation rather than passion.
‘But, my dearest Lizzie, why?’ he whispered.
He’s insane, she thought and realised she would have to accommodate his delusion when she replied.
‘The law would never allow it.’
‘I am above the law,’ he said with a hearty laugh.
‘You have bedded both my daughters and have heirs with them,’ she said. ‘The closeness of our relationship would be considered incestuous.’
‘And you are married,’ he said. ‘Would you abandon Thomas to gain a crown?’
‘Not to gain a crown, no,’ she said. ‘To save my children and to save you from yourself.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your mother loved you,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She raised you to love in return. How would she react to your actions towards the mother of your child, Princess Elizabeth?’
Henry’s face twisted in fury. ‘You dare to mention my mother?’ he howled. ‘She who left me when I was a child? She, who, like you, spurned me when all I wanted was comfort at herbreast; your breast, your love, her love, to hold me and protect me from my cold father. You women are all the same: wicked, heartless, abandoning your sons to favour your husbands. Did you think if you were to bed me, I would release your children?’
‘No, I hoped to reason with the man I knew before the Field of the Cloth of Gold,’ said Elizabeth. ‘The man who loved with his heart, who created a merry Camelot in his court, the man who could forgive.’
Henry threw the remaining wine down his throat and stood.
‘You may visit your children, but there will be no reprieve,’ he said. ‘When you refused me, you chose your path. This is your doing, not mine.’
He rang a bell and the door opened to reveal two guards, who stood either side of Elizabeth.
‘Take Lady Boleyn to see the former queen,’ he said, ‘then take her to see Viscount Rochford.’
Elizabeth stared at the king, his eyes were narrowed and there was defiance on his face. She blinked back her tears, refusing to allow him to see her cry, then she reached into her pocket and withdrew the golden hawking whistle, she held it up so he would see it was the gift he had given her all those years ago.
‘Whenever you hear a hawking whistle,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You shall think of me. You will remember your behaviour, and it will haunt you to your grave. I curse you, Henry Tudor, I curse your blood, even though it mingles with mine in Princess Elizabeth. She will be the last of your line, but mine shall flourish.’
She held the whistle to her lips and gave two short blasts, then she turned and walked away.
